White as Snow
by Siren88
Summary: Silas evades Europe and starts a new life in Iowa! Moving into his new apartment in downtown Iowa City, he meets his new neighbor, a firey redhead named Vayla. Its two days before Christmas and neither of them have a family. Rated M for later chapters.


Vayla owned an apartment on the third floor of a new building downtown. It wasn't her favorite location, but it was the best place for a lower price. She was a petite, red haired woman, with pale skin and a trail of freckles over the bridge of her nose and under her eyes. Just on the verge of 20, she lived alone.

It was two days before the Christmas holiday, and it was absolutely white outside. She loved the white snow, and decided to head off for work thirty minutes early so that she could enjoy it along her way. She only worked a block away at the music studio, teaching piano to young beginners, so she could walk. She shut off all the lights, locked the door, and stepped out of her apartment. Just as she was pulling the door shut, she heard a cluttering on the stairs down the hall. She turned to see a tall, slender man heaving two black suitcases and a traveling bag up and over the top few steps. Breathless and tired, he rested and wiped his very pale brow. He placed one hand on his side, as if he were in pain. Vayla saw that he needed help carrying his things, so she decided to help him. She began approaching him, and it was then that she noticed that his arms, face, and neck were also extraordinarily pale. He was wearing long black slacks that looked loose and comfortable, as well as a black beater underneath an unzipped black hoodie. The hood was pulled up over his head, but Vayla could tell by the short hairs that stuck out from under it that it was nearly white. The man bent down to pick up his belongings again, and Vayla sprinted towards him.

"Hey, would you like some help?" she asked, softly. This seemed to have startled the young man, as he looked up suddenly. Vayla saw his red eyes and realized immediately why this man was so pale—he was _albino._

_

* * *

When did I end up with so many things?_ Silas asked himself as he lugged two large suitcases and a tote bag up the second flight of stairs. As soon as he had asked the question he knew the answer. He had gone shopping for new clothes last month, as he was no longer wearing his robes. He threw his belongings up and over the top two steps. Sweating and tired, he leaned up against the wall and wiped his perspiring brow. He was thankful that the apartment building was not nearly as wide as it was tall. As he breathed heavily, trying to catch his breath, a faint but sharp pain stung a spot in his side. Instinctively he grabbed his side, massaging the spot. _My scar!_ He thought to himself. It had only been two months earlier that he laid bleeding and dying of a bullet wound on the ground in Europe. Now he was located in the heartland of America – _Iowa._ The scar that was now in his side was just one of the many he had to hide. As he thought about his past, a flicker of discomfort throbbed in his thigh, but it faded just as quickly as it had come. _So many things I now regret. _He thought. 

Shaking the stirrings of his disturbing past from his mind, Silas bent over to pick up his suitcases, resuming the task of moving into his new apartment. Suddenly a beautiful sound erected his ears. A voice. A _woman's_ voice.

"Hey, would you like some help?" she had asked. It was a soft, angelic sound. Silas immediately looked up and saw a young woman standing before him, with red hair that didn't quite touch her shoulders, a friendly, round face, and dark brown eyes. Behind her head was a light, creating a radiance effect. For a split second, Silas thought he had been graced by an angel. They stared momentarily at each other, the woman taking in his abnormality, Silas absorbing her blinding halo.

"Uh…yes," he finally responded, looking back at the suitcase gripped in his right hand. "If it is not too much trouble."

* * *

Vayla smiled and nodded, reaching out with a small, pale hand to pick up the other suitcase. She waited for Silas to stand before asking him the desired location. 

"I am looking for apartment 167," he said. Vayla noticed his accent this time, and had trouble placing it. Not wanting to be rude, she ignored it and decided not to ask of his origins.

"Ah, well then you must be my new neighbor. I live in apartment 166." She said, pleasantly. She picked up speed, seemingly suggesting that the apartments were all the way at the other end of the hall. Silas followed.

Silas had bought the apartment without inspection. Desperate for a new life, he did what he could to evade Europe. His only hope was that it wasn't a dump. So far the interior of the building was good; very well kept off-white carpeting on the floor, smoothly painted walls that were not quite white, but not quite pink either, it was a shade somewhere in the middle. From the top part of the walls, where the wall and ceiling meet, to about four inches below, was a burgundy trim. The smell was similar to that of an interior design store. Silas could tell that the building was brand new.

"So what is your name?" Vayla asked. Silas' attention snapped back to the young woman. She was in front of him, leading the way. Silas studied her vibrant red hair for a moment, watching it bounce slightly as she walked. She was wearing a black t-shirt and a pair of simple blue jeans. He could tell that she was not much for fashion, as she was dressed simply.

"Silas," he replied, "and your's?" he asked, slightly rolling his 'r'.

"I'm Vayla." She said, shortly but smoothly as she stopped and turned to her right, just in front of the apartment 167. "Here you are, Mr. Silas." She said, setting the suitcase down on the floor and turning towards Silas.

"Thank you," Silas praised, bowing his head slightly towards her, but she did not move.

'I will help you bring your things inside, if that is alright with you?" She said patiently. Silas stared at her. This woman was kind enough to not only help a poor man carry his things, but to also help him get them inside. Silas turned one corner of his mouth up ever so slightly. A half smile. He reached into his pocket and withdrew the key he had received upon purchasing the apartment one week ago. He slid it into the lock and turned it.

The apartment was cold, as no heater had been functioning inside of it. The hardwood floor in the main/living room was well waxed and unscratched. Straight across from them was a small black leather couch, just big enough for two people to sit comfortably in, and a small wooden coffee table in front of it. Vayla raised her eyebrows at Silas.

"Leather furniture? You must bring in a pretty hefty salary." She said, picking up the black suitcase again and entering the apartment.

"I purchased them on the internet a month ago and had them moved in here while I was preparing to leave. As you can see by the miniature size of the loveseat," he said, tossing his tote bag into the room, "I do _not_ make a lot of money."

"What do you do?" Vayla asked, curiously.

The question brought an all too familiar dropping sensation to Silas' body. She had come close to asking about his past, something that he currently did not see himself ever revealing to her. The brutality of it would frighten anyone, causing him to become as he was when he was involved with Opus Dei; isolated.

"Uh…actually I am currently unemployed. My mother and father…died, when I was a teenager. Their finances were left to me." He replied, his eyes refusing to stay on Vayla's now concerned face. It wasn't a complete lie; indeed his parents did die when he was a teenager. His father had beaten his poor, fragile mother to death, and Silas, in his anger, had slaughtered his own father with a butcher's knife. But their money had not been left to him. They hadn't even given him a name by which he could be recognized. It was not until he had been rescued by the Bishop that he gained any sort of status.

"Oh," she said, quietly, looking at the floor. "I'm so sorry."

Silas stared at the young woman. Her face was such a pretty shape, so round and almost heart-shaped. He could tell that she was not a natural redhead, as her eye brows were a very dark brown color, and he could see a bare trace of dark brown roots atop her head. From this angle, when she had her head pointed down, he could see that she had very long, beautiful eyelashes. "No, it's alright. It was long ago." He said, reassuringly.

Vayla looked up to see that the tall albino was not at all bothered by the sudden mention of his parents. Perhaps their relationship wasn't much. The conversation reminded her of her own deceased family, and how she was alone. "My family is gone too." She said. They both stared at each other momentarily. Silas nodded.

She set his suitcase down and glanced at the black watch on her wrist. It was now a quarter to nine. "Well, I'd better get going. My first student arrives at nine." She said, making her way towards the open apartment door. As she exited the apartment, she turned to look at Silas. He was still standing in the same spot, looking slightly lost. His red eyes were still fixed on her. "If…you need any thing, I'm just down the block at the music studio. You can't miss it." She said, pointing to the right. Silas nodded again and raised a ghostly hand. He waved it.

"Thank you, Miss Vayla." He said, his strange accent giving her chills. Vayla waved back, and walked out of his sight.

* * *

For a long time after, Silas stared at the spot where Vayla had been standing. _Kind woman, _He thought to himself. It's not very often that people offer such help to complete strangers. What if he had been a crazed axe murderer? _Not too far from the truth, _he replied to himselfHe shuddered. 

His mind flashed the image of her with a halo to him. He studied the photograph inside his mind, the way her freckles were splashed under her eyes and over her nose. They made her look so innocent and…cute. Silas shook his head. It had been so long since he had thought of a woman in that way. In fact, he couldn't even recall a moment where he had. The cilice he had worn on his leg for so many years had prevented his thoughts from getting any farther than recognizing an attractive woman when he saw one. He had abused that thing so much.

Silas picked up the tote bag, slung it over his shoulder, and picked up both suitcases. He then carried them into the next room to the right – the bedroom. Setting them down on the bed, he took a moment to observe. The floor was still the same hardwood that was in the living room, and the walls were plain white. A ceiling fan hovered in the center of the ceiling, but Silas would not need it anytime soon. The room was already cool enough for a polar bear. A queen-sized bed frame sat towards the left side of the room by the window, but there was no mattress. That was one thing he would need tonight, and he planned to shop for one today, as well as other things.

He walked towards the window, which thankfully had a simple set of cream-colored blinds attached to them. He pulled them open and gazed outward. Everything was beautiful and white. Christmas would soon be here, but Silas had no one to celebrate with. His family was long since gone, and Bishop Aringarosa had sent him away. Silas remembered that moment with the Bishop. He had given him the money and told him to evacuate, to leave and go somewhere far away. To start a new life. All of their efforts had been for nothing, and Silas left the Opus Dei. He did not tell the Bishop where he was going.

_So this is it, _he thought to himself, as he watched people come out of their homes with shovels. They began scooping the radiant white snow off their sidewalks and

driveways and out of their ways. He watched as small children, all bundled up so that not one ounce of their skin showed, raced out of their homes and into the white abyss, accumulating together to make art out of it. Silas realized that he had never had the chance.


End file.
